


polished

by joeri



Series: sylvain is trans and felix is learning: the fics [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character, Trans Sylvain Jose Gautier, or at least an attempt at some humor, smut and humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeri/pseuds/joeri
Summary: sylvain makes a purchase.





	polished

**Author's Note:**

> (shrimp heaven now voice) TRANS SYLVAIN NOW
> 
> well i finally worked my way up from G to T to M and now E, might as well do a pwp.
> 
> disclaimer that im trans, my experiences with sex might be different from yours, yadda yadda, enjoy the fic i love them both

“Funny,” Felix says in the quiet, in the lingering sweat of the room and into the curve of Sylvain’s thigh. “To think that despite your reputation, I’m the only person you’ve slept with.”

“You know why that is,” Sylvain sighs.

“Yeah, I do,” whispers Felix.

Felix doesn’t say it to pour any salt. That’s beneath him. He’s still got Sylvain dripping down his chin; it’s not even a minute after Sylvain’s come and Felix is riding the high down. This man is his, and he always will be.

No matter what happens during this war, he’ll always have that. He reminds himself as he licks his lips clean.

“Did any of them ever know?” he says.

“Not to my knowledge,” says Sylvain, awfully thoughtfully, as if he’d never considered the idea, which Felix thinks cannot be true. “I never let things get too far. Usually fucked things up before any girl wanted to get there anyway.”

“Mm,” mumbles Felix, kissing Sylvain’s hip. “Still surprised your family went along with this.”

Sylvain shrugs. “S’not as if they’re accepting because they see me for who I am. It’s just…”

“I know what it is,” Felix snorts. “It’s _convenient_.”

“They still think I’m playing pretend.” Sylvain swallows. “…that I’m in a disguise.” Sylvian whispers and Felix hates hearing the ache his throat makes when it strains to form the letters.

Felix kicks the covers off, wiping his mouth and giving Sylvain’s belly a small peck before crawling to curl up next to him. It’s hot, the kind of humidity only sex can inspire in a small, dark room. Felix has learned lots about sex and it’s that it’s disgusting. It’s messy and gross but it’s less gross with him, probably because he loves him. To Felix at least, that’s how it works.

It’d just be some fumbled way to scratch an itch otherwise, nothing worth celebrating or even talking about.

Closing his eyes and nestling into Sylvain’s side, Felix breathes disdainfully.

“Well, don’t get all mopey about it now,” he says, as if he hadn’t brought it up. “I didn’t get all slack jawed just now for you to spiral down after.”

With a subdued sort of chuckle, Sylvain squeezes Felix into him.

“Oh, you know me. I’ve gotta come twice to sweat the sad out of me.”

There’s a silence, and Felix is grunting with the cogs turning in his skull.

“Gimme a second to recover.”

“I was kiddin’! You ain’t gotta do that—”

“Bull _shit_ you were kidding. You’ve got the appetite of an incubus.”

“And you don’t?” Sylvain says with a nudge.

“Nope.”

They both look down. Felix is ignoring his blatant erection. He does it quite often. It’s not in his nature to ask for that. He’d probably die if forced to vocalize a single dirty thought in his head unless put in a certain mood. He’s been known to let a vulgar word fly when really letting Sylvain have it and he’s never been allowed to live it down after.

(One day, Sylvain won’t wink at Felix anymore and say, “look how good I take it,” while throating whatever’s for dinner. That day is not for a couple years though, Felix thinks, painfully.)

“You sure, buddy?”

“Shut up, I just did you a favor.”

“What’re you getting all defensive for?” And as Sylvain asks, he’s pushing his nose into the side of Felix’s face, speaking into his cheek and sticking their wet faces together.

“_Shut up_, do you want that round two or not?”

“Mmmm,” hums Sylvain, kissing his jaw. “Maybe.”

“Then find some patience,” chides Felix.

Felix closes his eyes up, his body unwinding as the candlelight from the desk flickers shadows on the wall beyond his eyelids, onto his eyelids. All the body glue sticking them together can’t compare to the way Felix’s pants are constricting him, suffocating his dick half to death. It’s not _unbearable_ though. He just knows too well how good Sylvain is at taking care of the job. The thoughts rush through his head and his throat goes dry at the memory.

“Hey,” says Felix like a threat.

“Maybe you were right,” snickers Sylvain. “Maybe I am an incubus.”

“No shit, but I need a second,” Felix remarks in response to Sylvain’s slippery fingers fussing about with his trouser buttons.

“You’re not gonna fuck me,” Sylvain says.

“Oh, are you gonna try and ride me?” The question almost arrives with a laugh and Sylvain’s face is burning pink. “Try and remember what happened last time.”

“Laugh it up, Felix. Isn’t it so nice how you laugh at your _boyfriend_ who cracked his head open on the nightstand.”

“You sure love saying boyfriend, don’t you?” says Felix, as though it doesn’t make his chest warm.

“And you sure love laughing at me when I fall off the bed!”

“Then what are you going to do?” Felix asks, twisting to lie down on his back while Sylvain’s yanking off his trousers and tossing the dagger on his belt to the wayside.

Oh, yeah. They basically got down to business as soon as they reconvened back at base. Felix can tell when Sylvain’s gotten all keyed up, all frustrated and pissed and annoyed because of something post-battle. Nothing a flick of his tongue or two can’t fix. He’s gotta remember to fully remove all weaponry before bedtime, though. Heaven forbid he stabs Sylvain on accident one day.

“I’ve made a fun little purchase from the next town over.”

Felix is running both hands down his face, voice muffled from behind them.

“We’re at war and you’re finding time to go buy sex shit? What do you think you did? Bought a knife with a nice hilt you can use? You’re not sticking a blade in my ass, Sylvain.”

“I don’t _wanna_ stick a blade up your ass!”

Huffing, Felix crosses his arms and merely waits for Sylvain to fortune his purchase. You can say it: Felix is guilty of not even giving Sylvain a chance. He’s already assumed Sylvain’s gone and wasted his money, the little bit of it that they’ve got between them. Soon Sylvain’s tugging Felix’s underwear the rest of the way off and reaching into a brown bag beside the bed where a long black box is pulled from.

Felix’s eyes widen.

In the low light, he can scarcely make out the shape until it’s cradled up where the candlelight can bounce from it. There’s no mistaking it. Perhaps the material is some kind of wood. It’s polished and doesn’t look heavy enough for marble. There’s a leather harness draping that looks fit for a human waist. Felix squints and then squints some more, and says, “is that a penis?”

“It’s mine,” Sylvain gushes with a wink. “I bought it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But once Felix’s eyes scan Sylvain’s for some kind of fickle charm, dirty glance, he’s treated instead to nothing short of earnestness. His smile is a magical thing. His shoulders have risen up close to his neck. Felix halfway winces for the reply that left his mouth by impulse. Luckily for him, Sylvain doesn’t seem to take it harshly. Just goes to show how accustomed he is to Felix’s… brashness. He just gestures with it to Felix as if inviting him to hold it. Sitting upright, Felix marvels at the tool inside his hands.

It’s… thick, and long. More than his own. Not that Felix is comparing, because honestly who gives a shit. But…

Suddenly Felix is swallowing hard. _He wants to put this in me._

“People really make these?”

Felix clears his throat and shivers his shoulders. “I mean, I’m… it’s good you could get something like this. Does it… make it feel better? Like, the way you feel about yourself?”

That was probably what Felix should’ve asked in the first place. Sylvain beams at the words. The wrinkles at the sides of his eyes put an arrow in Felix’s heart. He’s never seen a purer sight.

“A bit, yeah. It feels like an extension of myself.”

At that description, Felix thinks twice about holding it so carelessly in his hands. As he glimpses down at the thing, at _Sylvain’s_ thing, his boyfriend sidles up to Felix once again.

“I wanna…” Sylvain takes his hands beneath both of Felix’s knees, curling him backward onto the bed—a little _preview_ of how they’ll be positioned no doubt. “I wanna fuck you, Felix, the way other guys do.”

With their hips pressed together, the thought alone paralyzes. Felix’s body lie prone in Sylvain’s grip like prey, like the kind of vulnerability he once was disgusted to show. By the wrench in his gut, it feels good. By the blood rushing straight to his dick, _it feels good._ Imagining Sylvain holding him down and taking control is kind of…

Gulping and handing back the wooden device, Felix goes stiff.

“Have you tried it first?”

“Not really. I don’t… fuck anyone else, Felix. Who would I try it on? A melon?”

From certain things that Ingrid has said and by growing up knowing the guy his whole life, Felix can’t be sure that Sylvain wouldn’t fuck a melon, if it should feel good, be accessible, and not be too out of the way.

Clearing his throat, Felix flushes darkly and waves his hand. “S-strap it on then, and do… whatever.”

“Whatever?” Sylvain says.

“Y’know. Put it… in my ass if that’s where it’s going.”

God, he really didn’t have to sound like such a virgin about it, not like he cared about the concept of virginity anyway. First kisses didn’t mean anything. He’d kissed Dimitri as a child on a dare. Sylvain had been his first sexual experience but that didn’t count for much, or it shouldn’t, at least. Those kinds of things were trivial to him.

And yet… despite Felix’s need to buck tradition, the emotion wouldn’t follow. If he had to say it, then yes, he’s actually sort of happy Sylvain was his first, and maybe he’s a bit too chuffed that he was Sylvain’s as well.

He tries not to care but as we’ve seen already, _he cares._

Still, it shouldn’t matter. And it shouldn’t matter how swiftly his nerves are catching fire at the sight of Sylvain situating this strange belt around his waist until the wooden dick-shaped rod is protruding from where a proper dick ought to be.

It dawns on him that Sylvain will have to actually put in work. Seeing those chiseled abs after five years of war doing absolute jack shit in the bedroom really makes this worth it. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Felix thinks, not because it’ll feel _phenomenal_ having a second stick up his ass but because he won’t have to move.

_If only I’d been the one born without a dick,_ he thinks with great humor, not as if he’s particularly attached to this one he’s got.

When Sylvain is done, he bites his lip and wags his hips from side to side.

“You sure about this?”

“What? You wanted this,” Felix reminds.

“I know, but you haven’t done anything to get ready at all.”

“Get read—oh.” Felix recalls how embarrassing of an ordeal this all is. Not for Sylvain, ever, who seems content and comfortable to bottom, but for Felix who has had the luck of never having to consider the thought at all.

Soon enough, Sylvain is tossing a small bottle to him, the bottle of oil they’re always passing between them and Felix comes to know that Sylvain will have to watch him do it. His eyes say as much when they connect with Felix’s own, and Felix can feel the skin of his chest bound as he takes a deep breath, suddenly hyperaware of every plane and surface of his body.

“C-can you do it?” he mutters.

“Come again?” Sylvain says, and Felix is taking another deep breath.

“You heard me.”

“Not sure that I did,” Sylvain lies, y’know, like an asshole or something.

“I said—_a-are you gonna do this the whole time_? What, are you not able to take control so you’ve gotta have me do everything?”

This kind of tactic doesn’t work.

“Noooo,” says Sylvain in a grin, “I just think it’d be hot if you fingered yourself open for me.”

And just like that Sylvain can say that kind of shit with no filter, no problem. Felix could never. Felix’s neck blossoms with redness and his dick, twitching up in reply to him, gets a few shades pinker too.

He sighs. “Whatever.” The words are ground between two sets of teeth and Felix pops the cork off the bottle, applying a hefty dose to his fingers before he shuts his eyes close.

Sylvain can watch all he wants, but Felix will _not_. Never in a million years.

One finger goes in and Felix turns his face away. Sylvain applies pressure to the backs of Felix’s legs and somewhat bends him in half. Felix’s thighs press up against his chest.

“This angle should be good.”

Felix ignores him. His first finger already feels… uncomfortable. It shouldn’t be though, it’s just _one._ How is he supposed to do this? He pulls it out, circles his fingers around in something of a massage. He just does the same as he’s done to Sylvain, tries to relax the muscle before sliding two of them in. Felix takes time, steady and easy. His body responds in kind. Some part of him forgets Sylvain’s there watching until the numbness in his legs becomes apparent. It almost helps the process. His whole bottom half is tingling and his wrist hurts from the angle. It’s getting easier but not… sexier.

This isn’t really working. No part of him is turned on doing this. There must be something wrong.

“Sylvain, I’m—you’re gonna have to do it.”

“Aw, okay,” Sylvain concedes, pulling Felix’s legs back down. “Can’t get a good angle?”

“I can’t get comfortable.”

“Can you at least hold yourself open for me? Your legs at least?”

Without opening his eyes Felix nods and takes up his knees, somewhat arching his back in a way that he thinks will make it easier. He’s no idea if it does, only that Sylvain takes no time in splatting what _sounds_ like a helping of the oil into his hand. Sylvain runs all of his palm and fingers up and down Felix’s hole and slips a finger in quick, almost before he has time to expect it.

Felix holds his breath for ransom, swearing to die if he lets a single noise out.

But _oh_, it’s so much better when he does it, when Sylvain pistons his finger and kisses the top of his thigh where a score of battle scars lie. It turns him to mush, in fact, when Sylvain works the second one in and takes to licking and sucking the tender spot that trails on between the balls and his hand. Felix trembles and loves it.

“Syl,” he hisses.

“I’m listening.”

“K-keep going.”

Sylvain’s motions switch it up. His fingers scissor and twist and _stretch_ Felix open. The most dreadful whine escapes Felix and he cups a hand over his mouth, biting the knuckle like it did him wrong. Felix can only assume that Sylvain’s doing his worst kind of smile down at him. He peeps one eye out just to check.

Sylvain’s eyes are blown wide and he’s glimpsing up at Felix like he’s got the sun in his face. Felix’s frame shakes apart. His muscles light on fire.

“_You’re staring at me_,” he bites.

“You’re just…”

Leaning up to tug the tie out of his hair, Felix’s indigo comes apart into a tapestry about his shoulders. Sylvain thumbs through his hair, stops his thumb at Felix’s lips and says, “so beautiful like this.”

Maybe it’s because he’s feeling this good. Maybe Felix has lost just a bit of his mind. He doesn’t know but on impulse Felix cracks into a sunlit smile and he bumps his head into Sylvain’s.

“Shut up, you.”

And it makes Sylvain laugh but then Felix is wriggling under him with frustration, saying, “_shut up_ and keep going.”

“I think you’re ready, actually,” Sylvain notes, and when he pulls his fingers free Felix hates the sudden emptiness he’s left with; it’s a sensation unlike any he’s ever felt.

Doing his best not to whimper or complain, Felix curls his lips into his mouth while Sylvain fiddles about with the wooden device and coats it in oil. _Couldn’t he have done this earlier? Multi-task, dammit._

It’s leveling with Felix’s hole now. Felix sucks in a nervous breath and hopes to god this doesn’t hurt. This’ll probably hurt, though. It always hurts the first time, doesn’t it? Sylvain had said it didn’t, but that’s because they were careful and slow. Also: Felix’s dick isn’t made of wood.

“Are you ready?”

“I’ll die if I’m not,” Felix says and Sylvain cackles at the words.

And then he’s moving into him.

The pressure balloons at Felix’s entrance without pressing inside. It pinches and hurts. It almost manages to shift Felix backward on the bed until—_oh._

His toes curl and his body jolts up. _There it is._

Now it’s in. It’s in and it’s hard, and it doesn’t feel anything like Felix thought it would. Maybe part of him thought it’d spring to life on Sylvain’s waist. Perchance he’d still been envisioning his boyfriend’s fleshy one, the kind he should’ve been born with. Whatever happened, he hadn’t been envisioning… this. Whatever this is.

“God, what _is_ that?”

“Is it bad?” Sylvain asks, voice dripping with guilt.

Felix coughs. “N-not especially. It’s just… it’s big.” He struggles to breathe. “It’s really big.”

“Should I take it out?”

“_No._”

Rocking back and forth, Felix pants. “Just move, please.” It comes out like a plea. In a way, it is. Every inch of him is begging to take him in. If Sylvain wants this, Felix wants to have this experience with him. 

More than that, Felix wants it just as bad. He wants to get fucked by a man.

Sylvain’s always been a man to him. He’s been the boy of his dreams since age six. It’s almost _terrible_ how badly Felix has had it for him. No matter what became of this night, though, Sylvain would always be a man, _his_ man, even if he didn’t have this little wooden thing.

Felix takes Sylvain’s hand as he moves and their fingers wring tightly around each other’s just right. Thrusting in gradually, in parts and pieces like he’s afraid to hurt Felix (or exhaust his hips too early), Sylvain slides in further. Felix adjusts. He writhes around and tries to pull his knees back.

“More,” he insists and Sylvain wastes no time.

When the piece won’t slide all the way in, Sylvain’s tugging it back out and oiling up again. Lining up for the second go, Sylvain slips in up to the hilt.

Felix _cries._

“_God_, do that again.”

“Yeah?”

The pride evident in Sylvain’s voice reminds Felix of what he’s just done. Embarrassment coats him from head to toe like a thick film and Felix lays both arms above his face, body going slack and dead.

“Just do it.”

Plucking Felix’s arms from his face, Sylvain’s mouth fits itself onto Felix’s and he grounds them on either side of his head. His hips crack back and slam forward. Felix hiccups a moan into the kiss. This sensation cleaves him in half. Unable to reach down and nurse his own cock, Felix quivers as it goes untouched. It aches and it _aches_ and Sylvain bucks deeper inside of him.

Sylvain’s tongue dances a sleazy tango with his own. From all angles he’s surrounded, _invaded_ in the most incredible way. Even as he lies utterly still his body _jerks_ and _rattles_ with the force of the motion inside. The pleasure runs so deep Felix has a thought at the corner of his mind if something inside of him isn’t getting messed up in there. He’s letting Sylvain’s mouth muffle every slutty noise he makes. Sylvain releases his hands just to push his knees up tighter. Felix’s brain goes fuzzy. His hand slides down to grip himself.

“Shit,” he cusses breathlessly into Sylvain’s lips.

“You look so good like this.”

Hearing the praise, the head of his cock feels electric. Felix circles the head with his thumb and gradually strokes himself in time.

“Who knew you’d like taking cock so much?”

His mind swims. Felix arches up as Sylvain talks into his ear, whispering the dirtiest little songs that make his insides squeeze and go taut. Any breaths he try holding slip out. Sylvain catches the conch of his ear with his teeth.

“You’re so gorgeous when you look so _wrecked_ like this, like you can’t even speak, like you can’t even think—”

“Sylvain, _Sylvain_,” he chants, like he does when he gets close, like he does when his body starts to jerk out of sync and his hands all fumble to hold onto Sylvain for dear life, _like he’s falling apart._

“Come for me, Felix,” he says. “Come all over yourself with my cock in your ass.”

Sylvain doesn’t have to speak twice. As much as Felix hates to admit it, those naughty words do it for him. It’s almost like a lapse in reasoning, what Sylvain’s cock does to him. Spread so open, so deep, Felix comes with a gasp and a shriek. It’s always so loud and unlike him. It’s Sylvain’s favorite sound, apparently. It’s uttered out in between scrambling drags of Felix’s fingers down Sylvain’s shoulders and his legs wrapping terribly tight around Sylvain’s hips. They root him in place. They keep Sylvain locked deep inside and Felix can only imagine what it’d feel like if he came.

He can’t admit that he’s fantasizing about being came inside of. The cleaning, the leaking… it’s all so gross, but not if it’s Sylvain. There’s gooey white ribbons adorning his scarred stomach and chest and it’s all so nasty but… not if it’s with Sylvain.

That’s what he’s learned about sex.

That and, after being fucked wild by a wooden dick, your ass hurts.

Felix’s ass hurts.

“God fucking dammit.”

Sylvain’s starting to pull out when Felix lets out an angry groan, tensing up.

“Don’t do that yet.”

“Oh, sorry. Does it… hurt—”

“Just give me a second, stop moving or something.”

The room goes quiet, save for the echoing lungs between them. Breathing in and breathing out. Their chests stretch and shrink.

Felix keeps his eyes closed for a bit and tries to understand the urge he’s got inside his throat to whimper. It’s so discreet and it’s something he doesn’t experience often. Perhaps it’s just the vulnerability. Perhaps it’s being in love and thinking that sex is beautiful and wonderful with the person you love. Maybe that kind of thing can move you to tears.

But Felix isn’t that kind of person, so he isn’t, or he doesn’t let himself, at least. He clears his throat. He shoves his elbows up against the bed and feels the bed sheet peel off his back as he motions at Sylvain to take it out. Once he does, Felix’s hole makes something of a _pop_ and Felix slaps both hands across his own face.

Sylvain’s snorting and grunting without opening his mouth, holding back laughter. _He better not laugh._

“You shut the fuck up. You say a single word and it will be the last thing uttered from your bloody throat.”

Throat squeaking and trembling, Sylvain nods. “I’m not laughing.”

“You are. I’m killing you.”

Landing a kiss to Felix’s cheek, Sylvain snuggles in close. “I’m not!”

“Take that thing off before you spoon me.”

“I can’t just take it off, it’s my dick now.”

“How are you going to wear pants?”

“Everyone’s gonna know now,” Sylvain says with a distressing tone. “Everyone’s gonna know how hard my sexy boyfriend makes me all the fucking time.”

As he erupts into laughter finally, Felix is shoving him off of the bed and yanking the covers from the floor, wiping his stomach with them.

“Have fun on the ground tonight.”

“So, I give you good dick and this is how you repay me?”

“Fuck off.”

“I looooove you.”

Felix is fanning himself with a paper folding fan sat bedside. Laying the clean side of the blanket beneath him and letting his sweaty, achy body settle, he says real low, “I love you too,” just as Sylvain’s clambering back onto the bed.

They lie side by side. A single thought permeates the quiet that begins to linger between them. After Sylvain’s taken the toy off and sat it beside the bed in its box, Felix says to him, “did you enjoy that?”

Sylvain’s hands come to circle Felix’s hips. Back to chest, Felix cozies up, ever the little spoon. It’s a height thing, he swears.

“Yeah,” Sylvain says. “Looks like you did too.”

Felix is smiling, maybe. His face might be a bit red too. “It wasn’t the worst.”

Kissing down his neck, Sylvain grins. “I was hoping you might think so.”


End file.
